


Serendipity

by wendeetestaburger



Category: South Park
Genre: Depression, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 06:29:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1294906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wendeetestaburger/pseuds/wendeetestaburger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein Craig Tucker struggles to cope with the fact that he might not have to do everything on his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Serendipity

“I’ll see you Monday, alright?”

Those were the words he parted with. I knew Kenny was a liar, but I didn’t know how big of a liar he was. Or that he would lie to me. Though I supposed, looking back, it wasn’t his fault.

We had been spending a lot of time together recently. It started out as an innocent friendship a few days ago when he sat next to me one day during lunch when I was sitting alone. Clyde, Token, and Tweek were all on a field trip without me, so I had no one to sit with. I didn’t really care, though. I was used to being alone.

I sat there, eating my pizza, minding my own business, when I heard a tray slap down next to me. I looked up to see dazzling blue eyes and, despite the dirt on his face, a perfectly white smile. “Hey, Tucker! Mind if I sit?”

The blond sounded more chipper than I’ve ever heard anyone, much less him. “I… no, I don’t,” I said, scooting over a little. I remained as stoic as ever as he sat down, chattering happily about it being Friday.

I barely listened to him at all. I had had a crush on Kenny McCormick for as long as I could remember, probably before I even knew I was gay. I took the opportunity of him talking to me to study and deconstruct his face. It made me smile the way his blond hair flopped into his eyes and he did this sort of Justin-Bieber-esque hairflip to get rid of it. But it wasn’t like Justin Bieber at all. It was all Kenny McCormick. It was one hundred percent him. Pale, freckled skin and bright eyes all forming the ideal of a high school recluse.

Eventually, he got me to smile when he mentioned the fact that there was a party tomorrow and would I like to go? Maybe with him? I couldn’t help it. I felt the corners of my mouth betray me and creep upwards. Kenny was inviting me to a party? As a date? Okay, so I wasn’t sure if it was a date, but it sure as hell sounded like one. Maybe I was reading too deep into it. I wasn’t really into parties, but if Kenny McCormick was inviting me to one, with him, how could I refuse?

That was the first time we actually hung out, even if it was for less than an hour. The second time was after school that day, when I was sitting outside by myself before I walked home. I sat on a bench that someone had cleared of snow, listening to my iPod and just kind of thinking. Not about anyone in particular, though. Nope.

I was about to get up and walk home when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I took out one of my earbuds and turned around. I was greeted with a familiar smile.

“Hey.”

I couldn’t help it. My eyebrows shot up to my forehead. Two times in one day? I felt like an idiot for showing him that I was surprised. “Uh, hi, Kenny. What’s up?”

“Not much. Mind if I sit?”

“Um… I guess not.” I shrugged.

He plopped down next to me, perching on the bench in the way only he could. “How are you, Craig? How is everything?”

“I’m… good… why?”

“I dunno, just making conversation, I guess. You’re still accompanying me to that party Saturday night, right?”

I chuckled. “Do you really think anything’s changed since lunch today?”

He grinned. “I guess you’re right. It’s at Bebe’s, and it starts at 10, but no one’s going to get there until midnight. Got it?”

“Yup.”

We stopped talking for a moment, and then I felt his gaze boring into me. I turned to look at him. “What?”

I watched in slow motion as he leaned towards me. What was he doing? Was he going to kiss me?! In public?! Oh fuck. Oh Jesus. I hadn’t prepared for this. My eyes widened, but a second later I felt my lids drooping slowly, and my lips moving into position. Before I was fully ready, he stopped, his face inches from mine. What the fuck was he doing? Soon, his lips turned into a big grin and I felt a thumb on my cheek.

“Jesus, Craig, do you ever wash your face? You’ve got some dirt right here.” He wiped off the “dirt” from my cheek, leaned back, and hopped up from the bench. “I gotta go. See you tomorrow, Tucker!” His grin turned into a smirk and he turned around, but not before… winking at me?! God, I really hoped I wasn’t seeing things.

The next day was Saturday. I spent most of the day sleeping or lounging around and watching Red Racer. I was kind of excited for the party that night. I’d never really been to a huge raging party before, although I’d heard lots about them through other kids and TV and stuff. They were never really my scene. So I was pretty restless throughout the day.

Finally, midnight rolled around. Bebe’s house is only like 2 streets away from mine, so I braved the freezing mountain winds and made my way to her house. As I got closer to her home, I heard a pounding bass getting increasingly louder. Or maybe that was just my heartbeat. I wasn’t sure. They were both overwhelmingly loud.

Finally I turned the corner onto Bebe’s street and I saw her house lit up with silhouettes in the windows like in the movies. I shot Kenny a text telling him I was there as I walked up the front steps. I awkwardly opened the door and stepped inside, the pounding bass overwhelming my senses. I looked around the room, engulfed with familiar, drunken faces, but none belonged to Kenny. I checked my phone: nothing.

I wandered around Bebe’s large house searching for the familiar orange parka but coming up empty. I checked my phone every few seconds, but nothing. I was starting to get pissed off. He was bailing on me? Or maybe this was all a huge prank? My face heated up. Of course. That’s what this was. A fucking prank to make Craig Tucker look like a fucking loser. How great.

I made my way out of the vibrating house, mazing through crowds of drunken, gyrating bodies. As I left, I pushed past a familiar orange parka. Someone grabbed my arm, but I refused to stop moving. I dragged them outside with me.

“Craig!” I heard from behind me. “Craig! Slow the fuck down! I can’t keep up with you!”

I spun around angrily. “Where the hell have you been?!”

He sighed dejectedly. “Family issues. I would’ve texted you but my phone’s going haywire. I’m sorry, dude.”

I sighed. “Okay.”

We looked at each other for a minute, his hand on my arm and our eyes locked. Then he said, “I don’t like crowds.”

“Me neither.”

“Wanna just walk around?”

I nodded.

He let go of my arm and we started to walk.

“Care to tell me what happened?” I asked. Maybe not the greatest way to start out a conversation.

“What do you mean what happened?”

“Why you were late.”

“Oh.” He paused. “No. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

I raised an eyebrow but didn’t press the subject further. Or I didn’t get to because Kenny’s mouth evolved into a huge grin.

“Dare me to jump into that pile of snow?”

I grinned back. “ Dude, you’re gonna freeze to death if you do that.”

“Does it look like I care?” he said, and then he was waist-deep in snow.

I laughed. “You’re an idiot!”

“Your point?” He laughed and threw some snow at me. “Get your skinny ass in here!”

“Please tell me you’re joking.” I crossed my arms and grinned at him, one eyebrow raised.

“Dude. Either you get in or I pull you in.”

“I’m not--” I didn’t get to finish my sentence though, because I was yanked into the snow face first.

I gasped loudly. “Kenny, what the fuck?! It’s so cold!” I was laughing, though.

He just had this grin on his face that said “I’m absolutely right about everything ever.” He pulled me back into the snow so I was lying on my back in the drift. It was so cold, but I barely noticed. After all, Kenny McCormick was lying right next to me.

We lay there in the snow for a few moments, and it took me a little while to realize that we were holding hands. Holding hands. My eyes widened and I didn’t dare move a muscle. I didn’t want Kenny to think that I didn’t want to hold hands with him. Because I didn’t just want to hold hands with him. I wanted… well I don’t know what I wanted. But whatever it was, he played a huge role.

We lay in the snow in silence holding hands for a while, just staring up at the starry night sky and basking in the moment.

“Craig?”

I heard my name come from him. I didn’t move. “Yeah?”

“Do you like boys?”

I froze. Did he know? I haven’t told anyone, not even Clyde. Why was he asking me this all of a sudden? Did he… like me?! Was it possible? No. It wasn’t. No one like Kenny McCormick could like a loser like me. I had to answer quickly or else he’d know.

“Yeah.”

Fuck.

“You do?” He picked his head up and looked at me, a small smile tugging at his lips. But it wasn’t a mean smile. It was a knowing smile. He knew all along.

“How did you know?” I asked him.

“I have the greatest gaydar ever. I can smell a fag miles away.”

My eyes widened. He was making fun of me. I sat up silently and began to brush the snow off my back and shoulders. I stood up and began to walk away.

“Craig, wait! Are you seriously mad that I used the f-word? Craig, come on!” I heard the snow crunch underneath his skinny frame and then a hand on my shoulder pulling me backwards.

“Leave me alone, asshole,” I mumbled, trying to get away from him. “I thought you were actually trying to get to know me. Fuck off.”

“Craig, I-- Wait! Listen!”

I felt my body yanked backwards roughly, then I was spun around, facing Kenny. I glared at him, and then his lips were on mine.

My eyes grew wide with each passing moment he was pressed against me. His hands were on my shoulders, and soon I was kissing him back. God, how long had I waited for this goddamn moment to happen? I refused to chicken out now. I plunged my hands into his messy blond hair and kissed him back feverishly. Eventually we stopped, needing to breathe.

“That’s what I was trying to tell you. I said the f-word because I’m one too.” He grinned, panting slightly.

“You are?!”

“Well, kind of. I’m pansexual, which means I like everyone no matter what gender or sex. I didn’t mean to get you upset, dude.”

“Then… why’d you kiss me?” I sounded dumbfounded

He laughed. “Because I like you, dumbass!”

I hesitated. “For how long?”

“I dunno. I don’t keep track of how long I like people. It kind of just happens.”

“So… a while?”

“You could say that.”

“So why did you only start talking to me a yesterday?!”

“Because I’m an idiot. Why else?”

I grinned. “So, you wanna, um, come over? My parents are out for the night. They’re seeing some show in Denver and won’t give a shit if you’re over.”

Kenny’s smile faded. “I wish I could. Personal shit at home. Kind of why I was late. Don’t really wanna talk about it.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. But you have my number, right? Text me until you fall asleep.”

“You sure? I could like come back to your house, or we could walk around a little bit--”

“You can’t come back to my house,” he cut me off quickly. “But we can still hang out for a little while.”

I smiled a little. “Okay, that works.” I decided to ignore the fact that he was acting suspicious about his home situation. It wasn’t any of my business anyway.

We walked around for a while, holding hands and ignoring everyone around us who were gawking and staring. Occasionally a few whispers permeated the shell we were encased in.

“Kenny and Craig? What the fuck are they doing?”

“Are they holding hands? Fags.”

“Ew.”

Every time I started to turn my head, Kenny’s voice pulled me back inside our little world. He knew that if I broke the fragility of our shell, it would be gone. I realize that now, looking back.

We walked around town for a while, then I noticed where we were. Stark’s Pond.

“What are we doing here?” I looked around.

“What do you want to do here?”

I paused. “Can we…” I didn’t want to sound really dumb, but… “Can we stargaze?”

Kenny smiled. “Of course. Let’s lie in the snow again.”

We lay down in the snow near a tree, looking up at the dark night sky, and just lay near each other.

“Kenny?”

“Yeah, Craig?”

“Why me?”

It was two words, but oh was it a weighted question. He knew exactly what I meant, what I was talking about, and he took a deep breath.

“What?” I said, poking my head up. “Why the hesitation?”

“Well… I don’t know. I mean… That’s a huge question with many answers. Why you indeed. Well… I’m not quite sure myself. Something about you drew me in. I’ve been anxious about talking to you about it for a long time. I wasn’t even sure you were gay until last year when Jenny Simon wrote on her blog that you weren’t into her in the slightest. I mean… I just had a feeling, you know? Pretty good gaydar.”

I smiled a little and put my head back down, but this time I rested it on him. “You know, I’m pretty sure everyone in South Park has had at least a little crush on you. Even the straight guys. I’ve had a lot more than a crush for a lot longer than a little while.” I laughed a little. “I can’t believe I’m actually saying this. Out loud. To you, no less. It’s so…”

“Surreal?”

“Actually… yes. Surreal. I never thought I’d actually get close enough to you to tell you how I felt about you.” I laughed. “Jesus, I sound like such a faggot.”

“Yeah, you do.” I could hear the grin in Kenny’s voice. “But that’s okay. We’re both faggots.”

I moved my body closer to him, heat radiating from our bodies. We were almost the same being. Until he got up.

“Shit, it’s already 4?!”

“What? Yeah, it’s like 4:15.”

“Shit shit shit. Craig, I’m really sorry, I have to go home. I have a… thing.”

I stood up as he brushed the snow off his back. “Kenny, are you sure everything’s okay? You were late to the party and now you’re rushing home? That’s kind of--”

I was cut off by lips. His lips, to be specific. All of a sudden, there they were, just… on mine. My eyes widened in surprise and my mouth opened slightly. He pulled me closer to him, hands exploring my hair, tongue exploring my mouth. I felt teeth on my lips, and the only thing I could think right then was Damn, he is a good kisser.

It was over too soon. If I had known what I know now, I would’ve held onto him for dear life if I had known. But I didn’t, so I let him go.

“I’ll see you Monday, alright?” He grinned at me as he ran towards his home.

“Alright,” I said, but he was gone.

I didn’t hear from Kenny the next day, which was fine. I wasn’t worried. What worried me was when he didn’t come to school the next day.

I remember waiting by his locker happily, so excited to see him. I’d seen him at his locker as I walked to mine almost every day before, so I expected him to show up like he had in the past. But when the bell rang for homeroom and he still hadn’t showed, I had to leave. I’m sure he just didn’t go to his locker today. Nothing serious. But when I went to lunch to tell Clyde the good news, I looked over at Kenny’s table. Stan, Kyle, Cartman… no Kenny. Fuck.

I eventually worked up the nerve to go ask them where he was. I knew I was going to regret this.

I walked up to their table and waited for them to stop laughing. Cartman turned to me. “Hey Craig! What are you doing here, buddy?” I could hear the mocking in his voice.

“Nothing. I’m just wondering if you guys know where Kenny is.” God, I probably sounded so fucking sketchy.

“Kenny? Ummmm… Nope! Why don’t you check the gay bar? Or maybe your mom’s bedroom? I heard he was getting pretty busy with her.” He doubled over into a round of laughter by himself.

Stan and Kyle rolled their eyes. “Kenny?” Stan said, ignoring the laughing fatass. “Yeah, he didn’t come to school today. It’s not that big a deal. Sometimes he doesn’t come to school.”

“Yeah,” Kyle piped up. “Cartman jokes that he’s dead.”

I gulped, then mentally slapped myself. God, Kenny wasn’t dead. He was probably just sick or something. Not a big deal. I thanked Stan and Kyle, ignored Cartman, and walked back to my table to shoot Kenny a text.

‘Hey, where are you? Is everything okay? Text me soon, okay? I miss you.’

I wrote it and immediately erased it. God, could I sound any more needy and desperate? Hastily, I rewrote it into something with a little more semblance of indifference.

‘Hey Ken, just shooting you a text to make sure everything’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow?’

I hit send and sat down to eat my lunch, checking my phone every ten seconds to see if he responded. It felt pathetic in a way that made shame pool in the pit of my stomach. Nothing the entire lunch period. After lunch, I forgot about texting him and focused on school. But by the end of the day when I hadn’t heard from him, a little voice in my head began to nag me. “What if he actually did die? What if he got kidnapped or hurt on his way home? What if he never went home last night? Or… What if he’s ignoring me?”

I shook the thought away. Jesus, I was being completely neurotic. Kenny was a big kid; if anyone bothered him, he could beat them up in a second. So where was he? And why wasn’t he replying to my texts? He told me last night he liked me, but… Shut up, Tucker. You’re overthinking this way too much. Yeah. I was.

But when he didn’t show up the next day, or the entire rest of the week, I began to get worried.

And when he didn’t show up the next week, I began to bite my nails.

And the week after that, my nails began to bleed.

The week after that, it wasn’t just my nails bleeding, but my wrists, too.

And when he didn’t show up the next month, I stopped paying attention in school.

And the month after that, I stopped eating.

And the month after that, I stopped sleeping.

I’m watching myself wither away. I’m becoming sickly; pale and thin, with dark circles under my eyes. I’ve stopped talking to my friends and started sitting alone in the library scribbling away shitty poems about him.

 

Infinity is an eight letter word

That I cannot grasp, my hands are tired

And the sun sets in the horizon when

I remember your cold fingers and

Infinity is an eight letter word

I cannot spell without spelling your name.

 

I wake up somewhat optimistic, which is very uncharacteristic for me. I’ve never been optimistic. But in this case, I need to be. I survive on the thought of Kenny McCormick being in class that day. But he never was. At the end of every day, I ask myself why I’m doing this, why I’m still living, and the answer is the same every day: Kenny.

So that’s how I got here, sitting in Biology, my skin almost translucent, my ribs poking through my shirt, my hair greasy and unwashed, looking out the window absentmindedly at the smokers at the front of the school.

But as I’m staring, something miraculous happens, and I don’t realize it until a few minutes after I see it. As I’m looking, a familiar sight greets my eyes: is that… a dirty orange parka? The kid turns around quickly and I see a flash of blond hair. My eyes nearly pop out of my head after I realize who that is.

Kenny.

I quickly run out of the classroom, ignoring the teacher’s attempts to get me to stay. I just run. I don’t run to the front of the school. I run to the back.

I bend over next to some garbage cans and feel my lunch coming up, so I let it. I vomit all over the garbage cans and ground next to me, getting a few drops on my clothes. I don’t care. I don’t care. I’m retching and wheezing and coughing and hyperventilating, all at once. I think I’m going to die. I really, really do. The world is spinning and I can see it, and if I don’t sit down I’m going to pass out or die or explode. He probably hasn’t seen me. I think my chest is going to explode.

I decide to take the rest of the day off. I deserve it.

I go home, not bothering to get my books or anything. I’m flunking out of school, so why does one night matter? It doesn’t. As I leave, I walk past the front of the school, desperately trying to avoid him and desperately not. By the time I get there, though, the front of the school is deserted. I breathe a sigh of relief and disappointment and begin the journey home.

Over the next few days, I desperately try to avoid him, and scan the halls for the familiar ratty old orange parka and blond hair. I desperately want to text him, but I don’t want to seem desperate or clingy or any of those bad things it’s possible for people to be. God, I can’t be any stupider. I hate myself. I just want to die. Why am I so awful? I--

Vvrrrrrt.

Fuck. That’s me, isn’t it? I pick my head up from my hands. Somehow I made it to 6th period. I slip my phone from out of my pocket slowly, then look at the name. I almost fall off my chair and inhale sharply.

I quickly raise my hand. “Can I go to the bathroom?”

As soon as I arrive, I lock myself in a stall and take ten slow deep breaths. I open my eyes and slowly, like I’m engulfed in water, take my phone out of my pocket and open the text message.

Sorry.

I nearly slam the phone into the wall, but I stop myself because I know I’ll never get a new phone after this one. I take a deep, heaving, broken breath, and lean against the wall, and slide down. I’m sitting on the floor now, trying not to die, and I hear the bathroom door open. I don’t give a shit at this point anymore, so I let the person walk into the bathroom as I sit on the floor trying not to explode.

The footsteps walk past my stall, then double back. I see a blue eye poke through the crack between the doorway and the wall. The eye widens. “Craig?” I hear Kenny’s voice echo through the small, tiled room.

I wince. The door opens and he steps into the stall. In rage and hurt, I hurl my phone at his face, which he stumbles to catch. “Whoa, dude. Don’t throw your phone. Shit’s expensive.”

I can hear the grin in his voice, but he’s not smiling anymore. He kneels down and reaches to hug me, but I stop him. “Don’t touch me.”

He hesitates, then sits next to me on the floor. I sit, breathing loudly. We sit there for what feels like hours, but in reality is probably only 20 minutes. You can cut the tension with a knife. I can hardly breathe, either from crying or the thickness in the air. God, I want to say something to him, but I couldn’t. Every time I try to open my mouth to say something, I end up choking and swallowing them, out of pride and anger and shame. I’m not sure. All my emotions are blending together.

I exhale deeply, my breath shuddering. I can feel Kenny’s eyes turn to me, and I squeeze my eyes shut, willing myself not to cry. This was not about to happen. Don’t you dare cry, you big fucking pussy. He’s sitting right next to you. If you cry, you lose.

I notice a hand on my shoulder. I had no idea how long it was there for, but it was definitely there. I struggle to inhale. I can feel how tentative his touch is, how nervous. I don’t care. I’m just so happy he’s touching me again.

A few minutes later, the bell rings. I hear a small voice from next to me. “No one’s going to be here for another half hour,” he whispers. “We can stay here if you want.”

I nod.

We sit there, his hand on my shoulder, my head in my hands, biting my lip, desperately trying not to cry. I lie down on the tile, my cheek on the floor, hoping it will help my nausea and headache. I turn to face Kenny and open my eyes, looking at him for the first time.

He looks so sad. I can tell just by looking at his eyes he knew everything that I went through these past three months when he wasn’t here. He could tell I wasn’t eating, wasn’t sleeping, wasn’t living. His eyes say everything: Fuck.

I hear one word. “Craig.” I look up at him, begging, pleading, hoping that he knows what to do. I feel like a part of me leaves my body every time I exhale. I sit up and lean against the wall again, then inch closer to him, leaning my head on his shoulder. He tenses up, like he wasn’t expecting it, but after a second, he relaxes, like this is the most normal thing in the entire world. We’re sitting on the floor of a bathroom stall, I’m trying not to die, and he’s trying to help me try not to die. Then, the most bizarre thing happens.

I start to laugh.

First it’s a giggle, then a chuckle, then a full-out laugh. Soon, I’m howling, throwing my head back and laughing, leaning on Kenny and wiping tears away from my eyes. At first, he’s confused. He has no idea why I’m laughing, and then he seems to realize it and begins to laugh too, softly at first, then harmonizing with me in a cackle that only Kenny McCormick could do. And suddenly, we’re kissing. His lips are on mine, and we’re kissing and laughing and crying and somewhere along the way, I fell in love with him. He runs his fingers through my hair, and I whisper “Asshole” in between our kisses.

He pulls away, his hands holding onto my face for dear life. He has tears in his eyes and on his cheeks, and he just whispers back, “I know.”

We sit on the floor next to each other, his arms around me, holding me like I was the only thing keeping him connected to this earth.

When we both catch our breath, I turn to him. “Kenny?”

He smiles at me, leaning his head on mine. “Yeah?”

“Where did you go?”

His smile fades instantly, and his expression turns dark. His eyes begin to avoid mine. He sighs. “I knew I’d have to tell you eventually. I was… in the hospital.”

My eyes widen. “Why? Were you okay? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m better now. But I was in the psych ward for 3 months. Suicide attempt. It was… rough shit at home, man. Dad was abusive, Mom was busy, the usual shit. I tried slitting my wrists, then passed out, and when I woke up, I was in the hospital. I think Karen called. You… you wanna see my scars?”

He rolls up his sleeves to show me the long gashes in his wrists. I wince, then gulp, take a deep breath, and roll up mine, displaying the hundreds of thin lines etched into my skin. He grabs my wrists roughly, bringing them close to his face, examining them. I wince. I’d never shown these to anyone. Who would I have shown them to? No one was close enough to know.

Right before I think he’s going to pull them away from his face, I feel a warm sensation. I open my eyes and see his lips gently ghosting over my scarred skin. I watch him in complete awe. No one has ever treated me like this before. He kisses up my wrists and slips me out of my jacket, displaying my white t-shirt and the scars lining my forearms. Kenny kisses up my arms and to my shoulders. I get goosebumps and close my eyes, sighing gently.

“I love you.”

We both freeze. I’m not sure who said it, but we look at each other and know it’s true. Now I feel my eyes start to water, so I say it again. “I love you, Kenny.”

He opens my arms and pulls me closer to him. We sit there, me engulfed in him, him covering me, us protecting each other from the outside world. It would seem ridiculous to anyone who would walk in then, but we didn’t care.

We had each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Poem written by http://princesstucker.tumblr.com  
> He also gave me the headcanons for this fic. Hope you enjoyed! Or cried. Either way, I win.


End file.
